


Substitute Teaching and Other Misadventures

by Meabd



Series: The Ivory Tower [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Academia, Devious!Ed, M/M, Sick!Roy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9981968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meabd/pseuds/Meabd
Summary: Dr. Roy Mustang is feelingly a bit under the weather. Edward, being the ever helpful—and opportunistic—creature that he is lends a hand. A story in which kindness isn’t solely altruistic.





	

        Ed chalked up his recent indiscretion to idiocy. Sheer, unrepentant stupidity. He couldn’t believe he’d actually _kissed_ the bastard. It was so completely, utterly out of character for him. As was his studied avoidance of the hot piece of man-meat that plagued his thoughts. It had only been a week since the damn coffee date, and Ed had been doing everything he could to keep clear of Roy. 

        He didn’t even know _why_ he was so embarrassed, Roy _had_ seemed to like it. Then again, Ed hadn’t had a healthy relationship—hell, a relationship _period_ —since that ill-fated dalliance with Ling. And that was _years_ ago. Al hadn’t been much help, either. After being briefed by May, the little asshole wouldn’t shut up about it. ‘Oh, but _brother_ , it’s your first date in _forever_! And he sounds so _nice_!’ Stupid meddling brat. 

        Ed looked down at the file of paperwork he’d been sitting in front of for the past hour. Maybe a change of scenery was needed—he certainly wasn’t getting any work done in the stuffy office. With a sigh, Ed gathered up his folders and messenger bag. The courtyard should be mostly empty around this time, and some fresh air would do him good. Coffee in hand, Ed ambled out the door and around the corner, only to run face first into a well-muscled chest. The cup of coffee, crushed between Ed and Roy, spilled over the front of Ed’s shirt. Thank god for his penchant for dark colours. 

        “God _dammit_ Mustang, you owe me a coffee,” Ed growled, wiping the cold brown liquid off his bag. _Great. Just fucking peachy._

        “Oh, god, Ed I’m _so_ sorry, here, let me help—” Roy unwound the scarf around his neck and started dabbing at Ed’s chest. _Too close, fuck he’s too close_ —Ed finally looked up at the object of his torment. He was more than a little frazzled.

        “You look like shit, Mustang,” which, while true, probably wasn’t the right thing to say just then. Roy’s face fell, Ed winced at his choice of words. The normally put-together professor was pale and unkempt. His eyes were glassy and deep purple bruises under his eyes lent him a sickly pallor. Paired with a wrinkled shirt and a blazer that looked worse for wear, Roy wasn’t at all in tip top shape.

        “I mean—shit—Roy, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You look like death warmed over. I’m sure Havoc can cover your class,” _Great apology there, Ed._

“I really can’t afford the day off, bio-methods has that big test on Monday. If it weren’t for the department’s no-retest policy, maybe, but I just don’t think Jean can adequately prepare them,” Roy’s protest was quiet, almost subdued. His voice was gravelly, but in an _entirely_ unsexy way... more I’ve-got-too-much-phlegm-in-my-throat rather than Let-me-bed-you.

        “Really, what good are you as a teacher if you can barely stay on your feet?” Ed reached up to press a hand against Roy’s cheek— _god, he’s burning up_. Dark blue eyes fluttered shut and Roy leaned very slightly into Ed’s touch. Ed snatched his hand away and took a step back, trying his hardest not to look at him.

        “Okay, look. _I’ll_ take over for you,” the hasty offer, made with a _mostly_ sturdy voice, was met by a rather dubious stare. “Don’t forget that it’s _my_ post you’ve taken over, Roy. I think I can handle one class,” Ed rolled his eyes. Oh bastard of little faith.  

        “If you’re sure you don’t mind...” Roy still didn’t look one hundred percent convinced. Ed nodded resolutely, and the smile Roy graced him with was enough to have him weak in the knees. “Thank you, Ed. Really. I’ll be right as rain by Monday.” Roy reached a hand out as if to touch him, only to pause, apparently re-thinking his action. His hand fell back down to his side and Ed wasn’t quite sure if that feeling in the pit of his stomach was relief or disappointment. 

        “Okay, great, awesome, well rest up! Drink lots of water and stuff. Or like, soup. Whatever.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Ed high tailed it in the opposite direction, not sparing a look back. His pace was too fast and is breathing too short, Ed had no idea how to handle this. None. 

 

* * *

 

        “Dr. Mustang, I’ve got the slides ready for—Dr. Elric?” Jean Havoc looked up from the laptop, his face showing much apprehension. Ed sighed. Having already worked with Havoc as his own TA, he knew the man to be good at what he did, if somewhat lazy. Their relationship, while friendly most of the time, got much better after the pressure of having to answer to Ed was lifted from Jean’s shoulders. 

        “Roy—Dr. Mustang—went home sick. I’m filling in,” Ed dropped his bag down by the desk, nudging Havoc out of the way to look at the day’s topic. The fair-haired TA nearly leapt away from the line of fire. Their current module on protein assays and specialty equipment was a hard one, and the classes Ed taught always struggled with it. Flipping through the slides Roy had prepared, Ed noted that he was very thorough... maybe he _should_ audit one of his classes. For real this time. 

        As the students shuffled into the classroom, their conversations quieted. Ed glanced about... he had an idea. A brilliant, _evil_ idea. Ed waited patiently as everyone was seated before stepping up to the front of the room. 

        “Alright, listen up—Dr. Mustang isn’t here today, so you’re stuck with me. And we’re going to be pulling a little prank on the good doctor,” groans erupted, and were quickly silence by Ed’s patented glare. Only May seemed to be truly enjoying herself as she leaned forward eagerly in her seat.

        “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to teach this class, _and_ I’m going to be nice enough to send you all a review guide for Monday’s test, which, _so help me god you all had better study_. When Dr. Mustang gets back, we’re going to tell him that you all watched two hours of Bill Nye. Are we clear?” Giggles sprung up among nods and quiet ‘yes sir’s. Ed grinned, glancing over at Havoc (who looked none-to-happy to be there) before launching into the first slide of the presentation.  

 

* * *

 

        Ed _hated_ Mondays. More than most people hated Mondays. Mondays were the invention of a malevolent god, given unto man for the sole purpose of putting Edward Elric in a piss poor mood. _This_ particular Monday afternoon found Edward very nearly asleep in his office, eyes closed and feet thrown haphazardly over the cluttered mahogany desk. There comes a point when one has _so much_ to do, that one instead does absolutely nothing. 

        The rather loud sound of the door being flung open startled Ed badly—he jerked upright, knocking over the tepid coffee that had been left precariously close to the edge of the desk. The interloper—Roy, _of course_ —stood fuming in the doorway, his face a mask of pure, unfettered _rage_. Oh, now _this_ is going to be good.

        “That’s _two_ coffees you owe me now, you know,” Ed tempered his voice to boredom as he rustled through his bag, pulling out a fistful of napkins. He dabbed at his jeans, trying not to grin.

        “I—you—what the _actual_ fuck Ed? You let them watch Bill Nye for two hours? What were you _thinking_? They’re all going to fail that test and then my average for the semester is going to be utter _trash_!” Roy’s tone was a healthy mix of desperation, alarm, and disappointment. He had yet to move from the doorway, and his frame was nearly shaking. Ed wasn’t sure if it was the weekend of rest and relaxation or the anger, but he was looking _good_. 

        “Oh come on Roy, I’m a genius. They’ll learn by osmosis just by being in my general vicinity. _Trust_ me on this,” Ed tossed the sopping napkins into the bin beside the bookshelf, followed shortly thereafter by the empty paper cup. He’d try to salvage the mess of paperwork later. 

        “That’s absolutely ridiculous, and you know it. I _demand_ a retest,” Roy finally took a single step into the room, shutting the door a bit harder than strictly necessary. He paused, waiting for Ed to say something. When met with silence, he slowly approached the desk, leaning over to rest his hands on the edge. Ed was making quite a show of lounging in his chair, despite the looming presence above him. Time for phase one. 

        “Tell you what, Roy, we’ll make it a bet. If they do as badly as you think they will, you win and you can have a retest. Hell, if there’s even _one_ B in the crowd, you can retest. But if they’ve got a 90 minimum, then _I_ win,” Roy leaned back, abandoning his threatening posture for one of suspicion. 

        “...What do you get if you win?” His tone was clipped. Ed looked up from under his lashes, the picture of innocence.

        “I’ll let you know when I decide.”

        Roy crossed his arms, looking more than a little frustrated. After a moment of hesitation he nodded once, sharply, before turning on his heel and vacating the room without another word. 

 

* * *

 

 

        Wednesday afternoon found Ed with his head on his desk, the picture of a man at the end of his wits. If he had known that being department chair would be so fucking _tedious_ he would have told old man Grumman where to shove it.  As it was, Dr. Alex Armstrong was petitioning for a larger budget—what the _fuck_ does astrophysics need an extra four thousand dollars for anyway?— and Dr. Olivier Armstrong was demanding more leeway for her sports sciences students. _Sports science_. Ed, in his not so humble opinion, didn’t even think it should be a field of study. Not to mention the administration being on his ass about the falling numbers of doctoral candidates. Was it _his_ fucking fault that none of the potentials were worthy of acceptance? _No_. He felt _completely_ justified in pairing down the program. 

        Ed glanced over longingly at his coffee cup—long since empty—and groaned. He sat up slowly before grabbing several handfuls of trash (and some papers that might not be, strictly speaking, _trash_ ) and throwing it all in the general direction of the bin. None of it made it in. 

        Ed leaned forward to stand, but stilled as the door to his office was nudged open by none other than Dr. Mustang. “Jesus, do you _ever_ knock anymore?” Ed growled, not at _all_ pleased to see Roy. Nope, not even a bit. The brunette smiled widely, holding up two paper cups, _Curtis Coffee House_ emblazoned on the side. So there _is_ a god. 

        “How did you do it?” Roy handed off one of the cups to Ed before sitting down in the chair across from him. He looked very pleased and only slightly incredulous. 

        “Do what?” Ed took a long sip, scorching his tongue in the process. 

        “No seriously, _how_? Don’t play dumb. The lowest grade of the whole class was a 92. That’s _never_ happened, my tests are hard!” Ed smiled beatifically.

        “I told you. I’m a genius. I rubbed off on them,” Roy shook his head, apparently resigning himself to the fact that he’d never get a straight answer. 

        “Sure you did, smarty pants. So, have you decided what you won?” Ed’s grin was wide, and scarier than it really should have been. Roy’s own happy smile faded a bit.  

        “You’re coming to the next department poker night. It’s at my house on the first Saturday of every month. Bring booze and a lot of ones,” Roy choked out a surprised laugh, having been caught entirely off guard. Sure, he could have just asked him to come. But in all honesty, that held a connotation that Ed wasn’t quite ready to address.

        “Are we playing poker or paying for a stripper?” Ed shuddered, his mind quickly going places it really shouldn’t as he pushed the image of a very drunk, very naked, _very_ affectionate Alex Armstrong out of his head. 

        “Don’t worry about it. Just be there, 8PM sharp. I’ll text you the details later,” Roy stood slowly, cradling the warm coffee against his chest as he paused to think about something. 

        “I never gave you my number, though,” Ed rolled his eyes, as he motioned to shoo Roy out.

        “I’m your _employer_ , idiot. Of course I have your number. Now get out of here before I decide I want something else. You’ll hear from me soon,” Roy shrugged, before heading toward the door. 

        “I certainly hope I do,” Roy winked at Ed as he made his retreat, leaving the younger man with a decidedly stupid grin on his face. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my wonderful beta Rhi, even though she doesn't have an account here. 
> 
> Also, huge apologies to everyone still waiting on the continuation of Tequila, Rose and Cigarettes. It IS STILL COMING. I promise! I just want to have it ALL written before I post since I'm terrible about abandoning fics. 
> 
> There is one more chapter in this series for sure (poker night!) and a couple more that I have in the works that will probably get posted over the next few months. Thank you everyone for your continued support! 
> 
> As per usual, critiques are welcomed and appreciated <3


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